


Blankets and Forehead Kisses

by TheMerlinCollective



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Like so much fluff guys, M/M, May cause cavities, the timeline is slow burn but the writing isn't, you guys get to zoom through
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:53:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26318239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMerlinCollective/pseuds/TheMerlinCollective
Summary: He needs to know whether Merlin kissed him or not. He needs to. For reasons. So he does it again; not right away, of course, even Merlin isn't that daft, but a little over a week is as long as his patience lasts. He feigns sleep in his chair.Merlin walks in and huffs when he sees him. "Again, Arthur?" he asks, his voice softer than Arthur has ever heard it. His face feels hot.Merlin grabs the same blanket, and he tucks him in just so, and he whispers a "Good night, sire," but there is no kiss. Arthur eventually falls into a fitful sleep, not wanting to move to the bed and risk alerting Merlin to his ruse.He tries again.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 40
Kudos: 344





	Blankets and Forehead Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> The plot sort of spans across early season two-ish to season five. There isn't an outside plot, this centers solely on their relationship progression in a single regard. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy! -Sinner

The first time it happens, Arthur isn't even sure it has. He had been reviewing the most recent influx of reports from the chair at his desk when exhaustion began to get the better of him. He’s not quite asleep but certainly not up for more work by the time Merlin comes in. He keeps his eyes closed and his breaths even because sometimes Merlin will let him sleep, even with work to be done, and his chances decrease a fair bit if Merlin doesn’t know he’s awake.

Merlin pauses in the doorway, clearly looking for him in the room. Arthur hears a sigh and knows he’s been spotted. He expects Merlin to wake him up and make him finish, or maybe to leave him to his sleep, but he does neither of those things. Merlin moves across the room to his desk, but instead of being shaken or yelled at, Arthur feels the soft blanket from the foot of his bed being tucked around him. He almost jolts with surprise at the overwhelmingly tender action, but he manages to maintain his false slumber. He feels something press against his forehead. It's even harder to stay still when, a moment later, he realizes it was Merlin’s lips.

But then Merlin is whispering a good night, and banking the fire, and leaving as if nothing happened, so Arthur isn’t sure that it did.

He needs to know whether Merlin kissed him or not. He needs to. For reasons. So he does it again; not right away, of course, even Merlin isn't that daft, but a little over a week is as long as his patience lasts. He feigns sleep in his chair.

Merlin walks in and huffs when he sees him. "Again, Arthur?" he asks, his voice softer than Arthur has ever heard it. His face feels hot.

Merlin grabs the same blanket, and he tucks him in just so, and he whispers a "Good night, sire," but there is no kiss. Arthur eventually falls into a fitful sleep, not wanting to move to the bed and risk alerting Merlin to his ruse.

He tries again.

There's the blanket, the tucking in, and then Merlin is _leaving_ and Arthur doesn't know why it hurts so much that he imagined the kiss. But then he hears Merlin stop, and sigh, and turn around, and press the softest kiss to his forehead. It's hardly a brush of the lips, but Arthur's body feels like it's on fire. And suddenly he wants to kiss Merlin too. But he doesn't.

He stays where he is even after Merlin has left because it wouldn't be fair to him. Arthur must wed a princess, Arthur must have an heir, and he doesn't even know whether Merlin would return his affections. Losing Merlin is a risk he would never take.

But he can have this.

He starts sleeping in the chair almost regularly. At least once a week he gets fond aggravation, blankets, and forehead kisses from Merlin. It isn't enough. Arthur wants more, but he can never have it, can't even ask. So he takes what he can.

Merlin seems more concerned lately. He's sure it's some combination of Arthur’s sleeping in chairs and the dejection, though Merlin wouldn't know it's cause. He gets him his favorite foods more often, spends less time with Gaius, schedules more hunts with the knights. And it helps, some, that extra time, but he likes it best when it's just the two of them. No expectations or watchful eyes, just them. Merlin starts to schedule more hunts with just them too.

Arthur loves him, he realizes, on one such trip. Arthur loves Merlin. When they get back that day, he goes to his room and locks the door. He screams and yells and breaks damn near everything, but he doesn't cry. Anger, that's an acceptable emotion. Anger he's allowed. But devastation must be bottled. Arthur cannot have Merlin and he cannot cry about it. It hurts.

He sleeps in the bed.

It's torture, to be so close to what he wants and have it still out of reach. So he denies himself even that. He tells himself that it'll fade, he will move on and happily marry a princess and do what is expected of him. He knows it's a lie.

It's worse, somehow, not having that meager token of affection. And Merlin seems almost sad somehow, more and more lately. Arthur knows he's worried, but there's little he can do to help that. He tries to hide it, but all that pain bubbles to the surface around Merlin, drawn to him just like the rest of Arthur. He could never hide anything from him anyway.

He misses the blanket, forgotten at the foot of his bed. He misses Merlin's hands, warm as they tucked him in. He misses his lips, misses knowing the shape of them so well he can imagine them against his own. The memories are fading the longer he denies himself, and that hurts too.

Merlin has been quieter, and Arthur thinks it isn't all because of him. He's been paranoid, always on the lookout for any threat. He seems tired. Arthur wishes he could tuck him in, press his lips to Merlin's forehead, but Merlin hardly sleeps at all.

Arthur has always been stubborn. He holds out on any given decision and follows through to the end. It's a point of pride. It's something he is known for. He can't hold out on this.

He sleeps in the chair.

It isn't really on _purpose_ this time. Really, it isn't. But he was working at his desk, and he was tired, and his wants are much harder not to listen to when he is tired. So he stays in the chair instead of moving to the bed. Arthur is dead tired, but he waits.

Eventually, Merlin comes in. There's no knock, or call for entry, and even if Merlin wasn't the only one who could get away with that, Arthur knows the feel of him in a room.

There's a quiet laugh when he sees him. Soft, and nostalgic. Arthur can't remember the last time Merlin laughed. He pads over to the chair, and Arthur's whole body is thrumming with anticipation. He's missed this, he's missed Merlin, he's missed-

Merlin picks him up. Arthur squawks. Merlin drops him.

"What the hell, Merlin!" he yells, indignant.

"Me, what the hell? You, what the hell!" Merlin yells back. Arthur's surprise is doused slightly by affection. When they first met he wouldn't have understood what Merlin even meant.

"Why did you pick me up?" he asks, but what he means is 'how'. He'd noticed the new muscle, but he hadn't realized just how _strong_ Merlin had become.

"You were asleep in the chair! I was moving you to the bed!"

"You never did that before!" It isn't until he sees the bright red blooming across Merlin's face that he realizes what he's just said. What he's admitted to. Arthur's own face burns to his ears.

"What?" Merlin croaks. "You were- you were awake?"

Arthur sort of wants to die. "Um," he says eloquently.

"What, just, you were always awake?" Merlin says, and he sounds almost angry.

"Merlin-" he tries, but he doesn't know what to say.

Merlin cuts him off anyway. "You were awake the whole time? Why'd you do that, then?" and he's definitely angry now. The rejection hurts.

"Merlin-" he tries again, desperate to fix this.

Merlin cuts him off again. "That's cruel, Arthur," he says, voice low and hurt, and that isn't what Arthur wants. He doesn't want to hurt Merlin, he doesn't want to see the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, but he doesn't get why-

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Arthur is having the sort of epiphany that shuts his brain down. He's reevaluating every interaction, even glance, every lingering touch, the forehead kisses, and he really is a dollophead afterall.

Merlin is still talking but Arthur can barely hear him over the rush of elation in his ears.

"You couldn't just say anything could you?" he's saying. "You chose to laugh behind my back. And I only even kept doing it because you seemed so _sad_ the one time I didn't, and I knew it wasn't related, but I just hated seeing you sad, and-" Merlin cuts himself off when Arthur grabs his hands mid-motion in the air.

Arthur is staring at him, drinking him in because Merlin loves him too. He has to, this couldn't mean anything else but- "Merlin. Do you love me back?" He has to be sure.

Merlin's face somehow grows redder. He's the most beautiful thing Arthur has ever seen. He stammers, not really answering, and Arthur _needs an answer_ , but then he stops. "Love you ‘back’?" he squeaks.

Arthur smiles.

And none of the other things have stopped, his obligations haven’t changed, but he’s the king now and he can change them. That can all come later. It isn’t what matters right now.

He kisses him, and it's like falling all over again.


End file.
